Potions, Princes & Monsters, Oh my!
by faerietaleredux
Summary: Part crackfic, part fairy tale. Featuring all your favorite 'Sonny with a Chance' characters and some from elsewhere in the Disneyverse. Nate/Sonny & Sonny/Chad-eventually anyway.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Part crackfic, part fairy tale. (Eventually) featuring all your favorite 'Sonny with a Chance' characters.

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**Potions, Princes & Monsters, Oh my!**

Long ago and far away, in a kingdom just beyond the reach of Tinseltowne, lived an old king and queen. Like most of the kings and queens of fairy tales, what they wanted most was an heir to the throne--a young prince who would carry on the family name and bring riches and glory to their land.

On the morning of the summer solstice—when the sun blazes in all its glory and holds its position in the center of the sky—the couple's first and only child was born to them.

King Grady sat looking out a window, waiting for news of his wife and child. He was fidgety, rapping his plump fingers along the gold-leafed throne. What could he name his sure-to-be-valiant heir? Reginald? No, too common. Rufus? No, he was naming a prince not a dog! He was not good at this sort of thing.

He got up from the throne and paced around the room, his shoes making nervous puttering noises on the palace floor. Perhaps he should ask the queen? No that would be silly. He would do this and he would do it well. And even if he didn't, he was the king—so what could anybody say?

Finally he leaned against the window pane, noticing the sun in the same position he'd seen it in earlier. It truly was a majestic sight—always the same brilliant gold that never fades. Some philosopher had tried to say it was dangerous to stare at it for long, spouting nonsense about eventual blindness. King Grady just laughed. What superstitious fools these commoners could be.

Epiphany! Suddenly, King Grady turned away from the window, clasping his hands in front of his chest. "I have it!" he shouted, calling for his attendant.

The attendant rushed in, nervous. "Yes, your majesty?"

"I know what to name the prince, Attendant."

"But Sire--"

"Tshht. Don't interrupt me. Write this down."

"Erm. Okay, Your Majesty." Had the king listened to his servant he would have learned a critical piece of information regarding his child. But King Grady was never known for his listening skills.

King Grady stretched his hands out, emulating the pose of famous orators. "On this day when the sun has basked us in its glory, a child has been born to our small kingdom. This prince will surely bring us a thousand happy days of sunshine…etcetera, etcetera. (You'll have to have the palace speech-writer fill in the middle bits with witty colloquialisms). Which is why I have named our prince—Sonny, son of the sun. Or does 'son of the silent stars' sound better?"

The attendant didn't know if he was supposed to answer or not, so he just kept on copying things down. Even after he finished, he moved the quill around to look like he was still writing.

"Well, what do you think, man?" King Grady trapped his foot impatiently. "I can't wait all day you know—I have to read this to the people soon. And you know how long hair and makeup takes."

The attendant smiled awkwardly. "It's very nice, Sire. Poetic even. It's just that—well…"

"What? Out with it already!"

"It's just that you've had a _girl_, Sire."

The king's face paled considerably. "You mean?"

"Yes, the midwife sent me to tell you. The prince is a _princess_."

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Fourteen years and five months later, Princess Sonny sat with her father in the throne room. She had been blessed with all the usual traits of a princess--and more. She looked nothing like King Grady (which sparked a few rumors among the courtiers). No, Sonny was beyond beautiful, with bright sangria lips framed by a face of porcelain skin. Her dark brown hair glinted with goldenrod in the sunlight and darkened to a lovely opaque in the moonlight. She could sing too. Better than her chorus teacher, some said.

But Princess Sonny was more than a little discontent with her lot in life. She didn't want to learn needlepoint (archery maybe, but not needlepoint). And that was the only schooling she was allowed, other than singing of course. She complained to her father about it.

"Don't gripe, daughter. Education prepares you for your future. Needlepoint is what a queen does." He gestured around the throne room. "Look at all the wonderful tapestries your mother has made. Don't you want to make such fineries to please your husband?"

Sonny tried not to grimace. "Father, there must be more to being a princess than singing and needlework."

King Grady pressed his finger to his chin. "Hmn… Let me think. Beauty (can't learn that). Song (you've got that down). And needlepoint (still needs work, I've seen your attempt at a cross-stitch). Yep—that's it."

Sonny huffed. "Well then I don't _want_ to be princess." Her face lit up with an idea. "Ooh, ooh! Maybe I can fill in for the court jester while he's away. I'd be good at it. I have jokes in my head as we speak. Watch this." She jumped in front of her father, clearing her throat. "A coconut and a lemon-square walk into a room--"

King Grady smacked his hand to his forehead. "Sonny, you_ cannot_ be a court jester. You can only be a princess!"

Sonny made a sour face. She was disappointed. She thought for sure he'd go for that.

King Grady exhaled loudly. "Try and be like your cousin Tawni. She is the epitome of what a princess is supposed to be like."

"Really?" Sonny was surprised. "She's not very nice."

"Princesses don't have to be nice! They need to be pretty and know needlework. So they can marry princes who will protect the kingdom from evil foes and tax evasion."

"I can protect the kingdom," Sonny protested.

King Grady tapped his fingers along the armrest on his throne, a nervous habit he'd developed since his daughter's birth. There were scratches in the gold from years of tap-tap-tapping. "Sonny, you cannot protect the kingdom. Only a prince can do that. That's why we must find you a husband."

"Eek." Did she say that out loud? Her eyes got big. "Father, don't you think I'm a little young to marry?"

"Eh, not really. Your mother was only a little older when I married her. Besides the selection process takes forever. We need to line you up some good prospects." He clasped his together, like he always did when he was excited. "Don't worry I've already sent out messengers to the neighboring kingdoms that you're seeking suitors."

"Oh dear." Sonny felt blood rushing to her face. She touched her hands to her cheeks in a futile attempt to cool them off. What was she going to do now?

To be continued (if there's interest)

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Note: I was going to wait 'til I had someone beta before I posted this, but hey--you only live once, right? If people care, I'll write some more. ^_^

_Next up_—suitors. The princely kind. Who will be after the young girls' heart? A familiar heartthrob perhaps? We'll see. ^_~ Like it? Hate it? Want someone famous to cameo? Send me your thoughts. King Grady demands it!


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Needlepoint class was much like it always was—the bane of Princess Sonny's existence. Nothing would make her believe that threads and bobbins were anything other than tools of torture.

She watched in dismay as her cousin Tawni, princess of the neighboring Glitzandglam kingdom, lifted her needle in effortless swaying motions—the picture of serenity. Light from the window formed a halo around her hair, making the gold-flecked tendrils glitter brightly.

"How do you do it, Tawn?"

Princess Tawni made an irritated face. "Do what?"

"Make it look so easy?"

She stuck her nose up a little higher in the air. "Natural ability."

Sonny shook her head, looking down at the heap of a mess she'd made. The yarn caught on her chair and when she went to release it, she undid the stitches that had taken her half the morning to pin. She made a loud grumbling noise to herself and when Princess Tawni looked over, Sonny brought out her secret weapon. The puppy dog face. It was a combination of pouty lips, doe eyes, and three quarter head-tilt.

Princess Tawni let out a resigned breath and set down her sewing. She glanced over at the teacher, to ensure he wasn't looking, and then scooted closer to her cousin. She took Sonny's fabric with a yanking motion and started fixing it for her.

Sonny smiled, a big toothy smile, and reached over to give her cousin a shoulder squeeze.

"Pah—Stop that! We've talked about this. Absolutely _no_ hugging!"

"Right, right." Sonny smiled bigger, if that was possible. "I forget."

"Don't I know it," she responded, finishing up . "You know, you really should take this more seriously."

"I know, I know. I just got this lecture. 'Husbands want wives who can sew—blah blah blah.'"

Tawni almost scoffed, halting mid-stitch. "Needlepoint is _not _about securing a husband. It's about _protecting_ yourself."

"What?" This was shocking news to Sonny. While Princess Sonny had few traits we might call faults—she did have the tendency to let her imagination run a little too far beyond the beaten path. She wondered if there was perhaps a secret code woven within women's tapestries. Ooh! Maybe they were all part of a feminist assassin's guild and the patterns were a kind of cipher… Sonny could have gone on and on trying to interpret her cousin's veiled allusion, but fortunately for us the real reason became clear soon enough.

"Don't you read the news bulletins, Sonny?"

Sonny didn't. Except for updates on locations of musical performances, juggling acts and puppet shows. Who doesn't love a good puppet show, right?

Tawni made a frustrated "Gah" sound. "You're so naïve sometimes. How are we related? Anyway, if you paid attention you'd know almost every other fortnight a royal maid dies from pricking herself on a needle."

"That's crazy talk. I don't believe you."

"I'm not joking. Look at this." Tawni pulled out a tattered piece of parchment with the embossed lettering of the royal press. Sonny scanned the headlines—

_**New Trend among Villains--Needle Violence;**_

_**King Orders Spinning Wheels Destroyed, Sewing Union Revolts;**_

_**Princess Touches Spindle, Brings on Sleeping Curse; **_

_**Snow White's Mother Pricks Finger, Dies**__;_

"Huh." Sonny scrunched her face. "What an odd way to go."

Tawni didn't say anything, but raised her eyebrows in a look that said 'I'm-always-right. Don't-you-feel-silly-for-questioning-me? Of-course-you-do.' It was an expression she'd perfected.

Sonny put down the paper and sighed. "Well, I have a more immediate problem anyway."

Tawni feigned disinterest, but Sonny knew she was listening.

"My father's ready to marry me off. He's put out a bulletin for 'princely suitors.' Like I'm a fattened cow ready to be sold off and butchered. I'm not sure how to go about getting out of this one."

Normally, the two cousins were not ones to conspire together--let alone twice in one day. But there are some foes for which young princesses must resolutely unite against. And unwanted princes definitely topped the list.

The sewing instructor had finally awoken from his nap (before you judge him, readers, remember you might do the same if forced to teach needle-point four years in a row), and began circling around the drawing room—admiring (or, in some cases, wincing at) his pupils work. Princess Tawni had to be covert when she slipped Sonny a small business card. It had a skull and bones image on it. She flipped it over.

**Zora's Apothecary**

Meeting Your Potion-Related Needs*

901 Creepy Tower, Edge of the Glen

*Come at your own risk

Sonny was confused. "What's this for?"

"Let's just say, I think she can help you. And I don't mean with your needlework."

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Princess Sonny should probably have taken her cousin's advice right away. But it was easy for a young princess to get distracted. The morning glories smelled so wonderful today—she just had to pick a few. Look, how cute! A baby ladybug. Sonny crouched down to a half-sitting position and put the small tomato-red insect on her finger, admiring it. Such delicate features, such undemanding beauty. Why couldn't everything be so simple and nice?

Sonny was about to lie down on the ground and indulge herself in a nice little afternoon nap—when something suddenly _whished_ by her. She spun her head towards the sound. A kind of narrow stick protruded from the dirt a few yards in front of her.

Before she could get up and look at it, loud cathumping noises approached. The horse and its rider cast a large gray shadow on the grass reeds.

Sonny stood up, sheltering her eyes from the sun, while the rider—a young boy—dismounted. Even through the sun's glare she could make out his form—slender and fit. He had a gentle face with cheeks pink from exertion. Now that he had come closer to her—she could tell he was worried.

"I'm so sorry, Princess. Are you all right?"

Sonny didn't know who he was. Should she? No, if they'd met before—she would've remembered. Look at those curls—a lovely warm chestnut color. Touchably soft, she suspected. Wait, had he asked her something? Work, brain. Work! "—Erm. Yes," she recovered, her voice a little higher than usual. "I'm fine. Thank you."

He looked visibly relieved. "I'm so glad," he said, directing her towards the stick in the ground. "Sir Gallant promises to be more careful where he takes his new students to practice."

"Right, of course."

The boy leaned forward and picked up the stick, which was actually an arrow. The pieces of the puzzle suddenly connecting for the princess.

"Are you taking archery lessons then?"

The boy smiled. "Not quite. I'm more of the archer's lackey. I fetch the arrows and return them to the knights." He said the words with a kind of melodic laughter in his voice. "But all apprentices have to start at the bottom, so I can't really complain."

The princess smiled, mostly because she wasn't sure what else to do. She had never considered herself one of those boy-crazy kinds of princesses. But now she realized she wasn't around a lot of boys. At least not the kind that looked like this one. She had to keep resisting the urge to twirl her fingers around one of his curly locks.

As if on cue, he ran his own hand through his hair—looking a little uncomfortable. Maybe she wasn't doing a very good job of hiding her newly discovered fetish. "Well," he said. "I should be going. Sir Gallant will be expecting his arrow back."

"Oh, okay."

He turned to go, looking suddenly reluctant to leave. It made Sonny smile.

He mounted his horse, which obediently hadn't strayed from the spot where he'd left it. Not even to munch on the flower beds. Before the boy rode off into the figurative sunset (it was still mid-day after all), the princess called out to him, her tongue (momentarily displaced) coming back to her now.

"Um—Boy."

He stopped. "Yes, your highness?"

"I didn't quite catch your name."

He smiled, an almost shy smile. "Nathaniel. Nate, really. Nate Gray."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Nate Gray. I hope to see you again. With or without the flying arrows." She stopped herself from batting her lashes.

She watched as he rode away, brown curls bobbing in the distance, to see if he'd turn and look back at her. He did.

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The next morning, light streamed through the palace window like a bright and happy laser, hitting the sleeping princess directly in the face. Sonny scrunched her nose and twisted around so that she was nose-first against her pillow.

Mornings in general were difficult for Sonny. Why bother to get up when dream-land had you perfectly content and your bed was so warm and cozy.

But today was a special day, or a dark and gloomy one depending how you looked at it, and Sonny would not be allowed to sleep in.

Her mother, the queen, approached the bed with a graceful stride befitting the best of royalty. "Sonny, dear. Time to wake up."

"Oh mama," Sonny complained, her voice groggly. "Just one more dream--I've almost got the pie."

"Sorry, baby. Not today." Queen Portlyn was a patient woman (she'd have to be, to marry King Grady), so she didn't even scold her daughter when she closed her eyes again. The queen just sat down on the silver-thread comforter (she'd made it for Sonny herself) and moved a strand of hair away from her daughter's face.

Sonny opened her eyes. "I have to get up, don't I?"

Queen Portlyn smiled. "I'm afraid so."

Sonny sat up and sighed. She let her feet hang off the edge of the bed for a moment before completely removing herself from the shelter of her lacy canopy.

Her mother pointed her to an egg-shell colored corset with violet lacing. Sonny climbed into it, tying the bow in front of her chest as quickly as other children might tie their shoe. She put on a dress, also violet, and sat down in front of her vanity. Queen Potrlyn took a small silver-backed hair brush and combed through her daughter's hair. Sonny closed her eyes.

"Mom?"

"Yes, dear."

"Do I really have to do this? Can't you explain to him that I don't want to line up a husband right now."

"He—we—only want what's best for you."

"How is this best for _me_?"

The Queen looked sad for a moment. It was rare for her to let people see anything beyond a pretence of peaceful tranquility. A young servant-girl knocked on the door, saving her from having to reply to her daughter's earnest gaze. The Queen was grateful.

"Sorry to interrupt, your majesties. But the princes will be arriving soon and King Grady would like you with him in the throne room."

Queen Portlyn pat her daughter on the shoulder, not meeting Sonny's eyes. "I'll meet you downstairs."

To be continued...

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**Note**: I know I promised suitors, and they're coming—Really! It's just that these little scenes insisted on being written first. Sorry if you're disappointed.

I know a lot of you are desperately waiting for Chad to appear. He's coming, don't worry. I'll try my best to make it worth your wait. If you want a teaser—he'll be my version of a kind of dark knight. Gotta keep it interesting, don't you think?

Special thanks to **pyrolyn-776** for actively recruiting readers for this story. That was so sweet. I want to thank every single one of you for reviewing, and for giving me your suggestions and speculations. Those were very fun to read. I hope **Money Seb** and**Emmybear ox** are okay with my rendition of Nate from Camp Rock. I thought of you both when deciding to include him. As always I'm grateful for your feedback. So--please--review. ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

**III **

Princess Sonny managed to make it through the first batch of suitors showing only mild disdain. She smiled ruefully when the various prince "charmings" and their less-than-heroic cousins trampled in, showing off their wares. Some of them barely acknowledged her presence in the room, concerned more with impressing her father. Sonny figured most of the princes were not firstborns, or were otherwise unlikely to inherit much beyond a title, and were subsequently looking to win a kingship. The bride was fairly irrelevant to them. Just looking at how they strut around like damp peacocks made Sonny want to hit them repeatedly with a bazooka.

In all fairness, the day did have some highpoints. Sonny could barely stop giggling when one Prince (Nico, she thought his name was) vowed his undying love for her mother, kissing her hand. Apparently he mistook the queen for the advertised princess.

The queen's cheeks flushed a bright roseate tone. King Grady just rolled his eyes.

Prince Nico, looking quite dashing in an ornate orange brocade overcoat, recovered quickly. "I would apologize for my error, Your Majesty. But I can hardly blame myself for faltering in the presence of such other-worldly beauty." His lips curved into the slyest of grins.

The queen looked somewhat taken aback, drawing her hand to her chest nervously. She smiled back, though visibly embarrassed.

Nico looked over at Sonny, who sat to the side of her parent's dais, and winked at her before joining the other suitors at the refreshment buffet. Sonny shook her head, smirking. That one was sure a character.

When the last suitor of the day, an old near-sighted prince named Fickelbaum, finished with his formal introductions (a twenty minute recitation of excerpts from Ovid's _Art of Love_)—he walked straight into a marble pillar, taking it for a doorway. The queen trailed after him, checking to make sure he was okay. But King Grady and Princess Sonny sat motionless on their thrones, afraid that any conversation with the man might tempt him to begin another oration. Even royalty can only take so much boredom for one day. Plus, they were looking forward to snacks.

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Sonny sat in the kitchen, eating a cheese and pepper sandwich, while her father took out their secret stash of raspberry tarts from behind the spice cabinet. He served his daughter two of the flower shaped pastries, and himself three, before returning the box securely to its hiding place.

"Father?"

"Yes, daughter."

"I don't think any of the men we saw today are a right fit for our kingdom." Sonny said the words slowly, thoughtfully, her mouth still full of sandwich.

"For the kingdom or for you?" The exasperated tone from yesterday was gone now.

"Both. Either."

King Grady took a bite of his cookie, crunching it in his mouth. "At least it's only the first day."

Sonny grimaced, pushing her plate of tarts away. Her appetite lessened at the prospect of a suitor-filled future.

"You have to give this a chance, Sonny. It's how things are done. The kingdom needs the kind of security only a strong prince can provide."

"The thing is," Sonny said, being completely honest, "it doesn't matter how many men respond to your little advertisement. I'm not a dog up for breeding. I can't imagine meeting someone, and being willing to marry him on the spot. Except maybe if he's a Jonas Brother." She'd meant the last part as a joke, but her father seemed to take it seriously.

"Sonny dear, brethren in monasteries take vows of celibacy." He paused for a moment, his gaze shifting uncomfortably. "Your mother can explain what that word means later."

She sighed. "Father, what rock have you been living under? The Jonas Brothers are musicians. Not monks from the old Jonehs Monastery."

"You mean those traveling fiddlers you go on about? Tsht! That union will not happen as long as I'm around. They wear their pants too tight. It's indecent."

Sonny smirked and was about to say that she thought their pants fit quite nicely. They certainly had the figure for it (that mental picture made her grin all the more lecherous). But she knew she had to pick her battles wisely. She needed to win this war.

"What about Sir Zacharias Effronicus from Glitzandglam?" King Grady asked, offering a less than subtle suggestion. "I've heard the young girls go on about him. He's handsome. Not to mention a fantastic jouster."

Sonny let her mouth hang open for a moment before responding. "You're right, dad. Zac is definitely a catch. And I might not be completely _horrified_ if he wasn't Tawni's older brother. Oh wait. That makes him your sister's son and _my_ first cousin." Talk about gross.

King Grady feigned mild surprise. "Oh, that's right."

Sonny eyed her father knowingly. "You just want him so we can start winning the jousting tournaments. As long as Auntie's team has Zac, we'll never beat them."

King Grady pouted his lips-caught but unwilling to admit it.

Sonny spoke softly now, letting her words spread like butter on a hot potato. "In all seriousness, if this prince business doesn't work out, Father, we'll have to try something different. After all, even if the most strapping young man comes along, he can't be the future king without me. And if I somehow _left_, you're the one who wouldn't have an heir. And what good would that do the kingdom?"

King Grady stopped munching on his cookie, the claret filling suddenly very tart. Was his daughter implying she would run away and leave him without an heir if he forced her hand? Or had he misunderstood her? Yes, that must be it. Women were not capable of developing complicated schemes-unless they were evil faeries, of course, in which case they must be imprisoned as heretics before polluting the minds of the rest of their sex. He narrowed his eyes, examining his daughter more closely.

She just smiled at him, her eyes twinkling.

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Two mornings later, King Grady and Queen Portlyn had to leave in the middle of meet-and-greet with the day's suitors to tend to business at the border. The King instructed his daughter to continue the selection process without him, careful to behave in a matter befitting a young lady. He promised to be with his daughter in spirit, though for the time he must depart.

Sonny waited three minutes after he left before trying to escape.

"Psst," Sonny hissed, motioning her cousin over. "Tawni!"

Princess Tawni eyed Sonny cautiously. She'd come to the palace on an errand for her mother, but had taken a detour to observe the infamous line of would-be-throne-stealers. She walked over to her cousin, if only to get Sonny to stop embarrassing them both with her feeble attempts at whispering. "What do you want? And lower your voice already. You sound like a dying squirrel."

Sonny ignored the jibe. "My dad's going to be gone for the rest of the morning."

"So?"

"Fill in for me."

"No way!"

"Please, Tawni. I'll do anything. The archers are having a preliminary tournament and if I leave now I'll catch it in time to see the winner." Princess Sonny was a master at begging. She had no shame, and would throw herself on the ground if that's what it took to get you to play along with her plots.

Tawni knew this well, as she'd given in to her on too many occasions to count. Today however, she would be strong. A pillar of resolve. "I don't care. It's your job to sort through these buffoons. And if my mother found out, she'd have me scrubbing my brother's armor for a week. These hands are not cut out for scrubbing."

"Pretty please?" Sonny had progressed to batting her eyelashes innocently. "I'll make it worth your while."

Tawni paused. How so?

Sonny noticed her hesitation and smiled a small, wicked smile. "You know that tiara mother bought me on the Continent?"

Tawni's eyes widened. "Platinum setting with the moonstone inlets?"

Sonny nodded, that was the one. "It's yours."

Tawni didn't even blink, impatiently waving Sonny away so she could take her place on the throne. "Deal."

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Watching the last trio of arrows slicing straight into their crimson target, Sonny felt like she could breathe for the first time in days. While not everyone recognized archery as such, to Sonny it was nothing if not graceful. She admired the way the archers set their eye on a faraway goal, and with a single quick motion, it was theirs. Precise, resolute, perfect.

"Enjoying the show?"

Sonny turned around from her spot on the fence line, meeting the gaze of her favorite archer's apprentice. "Immensely," she said, smiling a little too brightly.

Nate moved to the spot beside her, leaning over the fence's uppermost plank. "I'm glad, Princess."

Sonny looked over at the tournament again. They were crowning the finalists. "Shouldn't you be out there?" she asked, referring to the field. "Collecting stray arrows or something."

He laughed. "It's my day off. And only senior attendants work the field in a tournament."

Nate looked over at the crowd of spectators sitting in bleachers. The aristocrats had special seating in velvet-lined tents. He looked over at Sonny, repeating her earlier question to him. "Shouldn't you be over there?" He nodded in the direction of the other courtiers.

But while Nate was surveying the crowd, Sonny was studying the way his dark green tunic clung tightly to the muscles on his upper arm. It was an exercise in self-control not to trace her finger along the velour fabric of his sleeve. Slowly her hearing caught up to the rest of her brain. "Hmph?" she said, shaking her head a little in confusion. "Oh no. I'm not supposed to be there. Or here for that matter. I had to sneak out just to see the end. It was worth it though." She met his eyes, tilting her head a little. "Walk me back?"

He wanted to say it would be the utmost honor to walk her to the palace, a privilege he didn't deserve. But he couldn't think of how to say that without sounding like an idiot. He settled for "Gladly, Princess" and hoped that the heat he felt on his face wasn't showing.

From the way the princess smiled back at him, it probably was.

As they walked along, Nate noticed a strange set of carriages—all with jet black horses at the helm—just outside the castle gates. "Are there visitors to the palace today?"

"Unfortunately."From the Princesses' tone, he could tell she didn't feel like discussing it further.

He let it drop.

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Inside the palace, something sinister was taking place. Badness lurked in the air. The small kingdom, so isolated from the more worldly forms of trouble, was not prepared for it.

A troop of knights, decked in black and purple body armor, stood ominously in the center of the room. Their leader had fair hair and pronounced cheekbones, a seemingly permanent smirk plastered on his face-as though laughing inwardly at a private joke. At your expense.

The knight stepped forward and the room quieted. Even his tone was mocking. "Good evening, gentlefolk," he said. "My name is Sir Chad Dylan Cooper. You may have heard of me. Though I suppose it's possible you haven't. This backwards little kingdom is pretty far off the beaten path."

He did a bit of a roundabout, like a circus ringleader, evaluating the crowd. "It's no matter. What _does_ matter is that my master has sent me on an errand."

One of the lesser knights, a large man with freckled skin, handed his leader a scroll. Sir Chad Dylan Cooper unrolled the parchment and read the first line. "Attention citizens of—" He paused. "What's the name of this place?"

Someone in the crowd filled in the blank. "_Sorandoma_."

Chad continued, clearing his throat. "_Sorandoma_, your kingdom has been annexed by the Mighty Condor Empire. The Emperor's first command is that you hand over your silver and your gold."

The spectators clamored loudly at that last bit. The loss of one's gold is apparently a universal signal to panic.

Princess Tawni, who had been sitting cross legged on the throne, stood up. "I think your little charade has gone on long enough. I am no longer amused."

Chad turned to look at her, tilting his head. "Ah, the princess. I was wondering when you were going to intervene." He smiled at her wickedly and then turned to survey the crowd again. "In the event that you are unwilling to comply with Emperor Condor's demands—we have instructions to take the royal family prisoner. You'll find that your king and queen are already in our custody. Maybe that will help you with your decision."

Tawni narrowed her eyes. "Guards!" she called, her gaze not leaving the knights face. "Dispose of these intruders."

The guards moved forward, their weapons drawn. But they weren't fast enough for the kind of tactics the rival soldiers brought with them. The second in command to Chad took out a purple grenade. Releasing the cap, he tossed it in the direction of the guards—rendering them completely immobile, like statues in a garden.

At this point, Princess Sonny and Nate entered the throne room from the main hallway. They looked at each other, trying to make sense of the scene—the panicked faces of the people. There was only thing they understood: something was going wrong. Very wrong. Sonny moved through the crowd of people, Nate at her heels. They pushed forward, until they were near the front of the room, just behind the dark clad men.

All Nate heard was a blonde boy in dark armor say, "Princess, you're coming with me," before he took action. Nate pulled Sonny behind him and stepped in front of her, his hand gripping and loading his crossbow in less time than it would take to blink. But he didn't have time to release it.

Chad had pulled out a canister of his own—clear with an iridescent gray liquid swirling inside it. He lifted an eyebrow, chuckling quietly before dropping it to the ground. The room filled with a heavy white cloud—making it difficult to breathe, let alone see. People everywhere coughed, gasping for air. Someone near the wall opened the windows, allowing in the breeze.

When the gas-cloud finally cleared there was only one thing everyone in the room noticed. The princess was gone.

To be continued...

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**Note:** Hello lovely readers.

I'm sorry it took unforgivably long to get this chapter out. I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of you lost interest-it's easy to forget about a story when it hasn't been updated in almost a month. O_o Special apologies to _pyro_. I promised you this by last weekend—which makes it really sad/pathetic/distressing that I've only posted it now.

It took me a really long time to introduce Chad. I knew how I wanted to portray him, but not how to do it (if that makes sense?); I had to go and read one of my favorite books of all time (King of Attolia) for inspiration. I'm still not all that pleased with my introduction of him, but it's better nothing. Don't worry—he's not completely evil. Even if he seems that way here.

Eek, this author's note is getting disgustingly long. Rather than apologizing again I'm going to say | **T h a n k **|** Y o u** | to every single reviewer. Your support and encouragement means so much. It makes writing this all the more fun. Keep it up. I_ need_ your reviews. :)


	4. Chapter 4

_For everyone who hasn't given up on this story. _Camirae_ and _Pyro_ and _everyone else_ who keeps reminding me that they care. I wish I had thanked you each personally. You deserve it. Anyway, sorry there's a lot of blabbing at first in this new chapter; it'll get exciting soon, I promise.  
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**IV**

The smoke dissipated from the room gradually—leaving only a film of purple slivering in the air. The mass confusion took longer to exit. People started clamoring in all directions—courtiers shrieking about their missing valuables, guards storming in all directions searching for the perpetrators.

Nate almost forgot to breathe as he looked at the gold etched throne, now empty. He didn't exhale until he turned to see Princess Sonny standing behind him. _Relief. Utter relief._

The look on the princess' face was one he'd never seen and yet immediately understood. A mix of _fear_, _anger _and _guilt_ so potent that staring into it made you want to look away. But Nate couldn't look away.

Sonny pushed past him until she stood in front of the empty throne. Staring at it. It was as though she didn't even notice the surrounding chaos. To her, the only thing in the room was that very empty gold-leafed throne.

Nate wasn't sure if he should approach. Maybe she needed to process things alone. But he couldn't help himself and stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder.

He didn't say anything. What was there to say, really?_ Sorry your family's been kidnapped and that an evil emperor has his sights on your kingdom. But hey, there's still a chance he won't enslave the population and/or exploit our resources. _Somehow, he doubted Princess Sonny would find any of that comforting.

Finally, after a minute of stillness she turned around, taking his hand off her shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Thanks."

She stepped onto the dais with a heavy determination and whistled loudly, getting everyone's attention. Slowly, the room quieted.

Sonny took a breath. "I know our first inclination is to panic. But we can't. Not if we're going to get out of this. I think we've been in our own little secluded bubble with our sister-kingdom for so long—that we forgot what it's like to meet up with the 'bad guys' of the world. Well, we can't hide anymore. They've come to us."

She motioned for the Captain of the Guard to approach. "Captain Marshall, what do you suggest we do now?"

Captain Marshall, first in command of the royal army, had taken a hobby of knitting in recent years. And who could blame him? It'd been thirty years since _Sorandoma_ or _Glitzandglam_ faced any sort of military threat. The army itself consisted of about thirteen 'soldiers' who only enlisted because of the flashy red uniforms. You can see why the Captain was leery of being given tactical control. So he said nothing, touching his finger to his head, instead.

When he didn't reply, Sonny prodded him further. Sometimes baby steps were necessary with these sorts of things. "To start, what do we know about this Emperor Condor?"

Captain Marshall kneaded his hands together nervously. "Um. We know he's bad. And dangerous. And that he's kidnapped the royal family. And has an evil laugh. Um. Well, we don't know for sure about that. But I suspect so. These types usually have an evil laugh."

Sonny paused, her face momentarily deadpanned. "Okaaaay," she said, hoping for commentary that was a little less obvious. "Anyone else?"

Lieutenant Davis, an older man who'd been in the guard long enough to have even seen the battlefield, raised his dark-brown wrinkly hand. "Your majesty," he said, his voice a deep tenor. "Reports have just come in about a stronghold just five miles east of the border that the Emperor might be using to incarcerate your parents. It's the closest protected base from here."

"We'll need to infiltrate it."

"Won't be easy."

"It never is."

"Your majesty?" Nate stepped forward. "Can I mention something?"

"Of course, Nate."

"We have one advantage. They think they've captured the _entire_ royal family. We can't let them know they made a mistake." His eyes were intent, searing with a quiet determination.

Sonny nodded, the grim look returning to her face. "Princess Tawni will keep up the ruse. She's smart; she's not going to give them any information to use against us."

Finally Captain Marshall knew of a way he could be useful, chiming in excitedly. "My brother is editor of the news bulletins. I could feed him a story about how Sonny was captured with the rest."

Lieutenant Davis' voice echoed loudly, addressing everyone in the room. "In the meantime, no one here can speak of what they know. As far as we're concerned, Princess Sonny is behind bars."

The people of_ Sorandoma_ were not gossips or twits by nature and with their entire country on the line—they could be trusted to keep silent.

Princess Sonny tapped her fingers along the edge of the throne and paused for a moment, the sound reminding her of her father. She cleared her throat. "Lieutenant, we should send a secret messenger to _Glitzandglam _to inform Queen Sharpay about Tawni. I'm sure we'll have her support once she learns her daughter's been kidnapped. She may even send Zac to help prepare an attack."

"I'll arrange it right away, Your Majesty," Davis said, bowing stiffly before he left.

Sonny reached into her dress pocket for a stick of gum and pulled out something else instead. She leaned back in her seat, looking at the business card her cousin had given her days before. That quiet afternoon in needlepoint felt a lifetime away now. She rubbed the edge of the card with her fingernail. For now, she had a plan.

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The east end of the Dark Forest was a nightmare this time of year. Alright, it's a nightmare any time of year. That's kind of the point. Even so, Sonny trudged over shadows and broken branches, her horse rushing between the trees.

Nate followed closely behind, keeping a grip on his cross-bow, just in case. He wasn't sure why he was accompanying the Princess on her fool-hardy errand. Sir Gallant was probably screaming bloody murder when he didn't show up for morning duty. But Nate's protective-streak was taking over lately and when he said he'd like to join her, the princess didn't object.

Suddenly a flash of orange darted out from a corner and the princess' horse jumped, spooked. Nate tried to grab for the reigns but couldn't. The princess fell backwards with a shriek—landing SMACK on the damp ground.

Nate jumped off his horse. "Princess, are you alright?" He could hear the panic in his voice. He should have taken the lead. Then it would be him on the floor and not her.

Sonny grumbled, reaching for his hand to help her up. "I hate horses," she admitted, brushing off the caked dirt from her trousers. He hadn't known princesses were even allowed to wear trousers. Sonny explained that they aren't. But for now she was in charge, and she'd wear pants if she wanted to. He'd smiled at that.

A flicker of sound behind a tree made him turn, cross-bow instantly in-grip.

Sonny sighed. "You can come out, Prince Nico. We know you're there."

Sure enough, Prince Nico with his dark orange tunic crept into view. He smiled awkwardly, "Princess, so nice to see you again. And arrow-boy, it's less nice to meet you. What are you two out in the woods for--berry picking? a romantic stroll? "

Nate blushed, putting down his bow.

Sonny laughed. "Not quite. We're on a mission. Emperor Condor is trying to usurp the throne."

Prince Nico started backing up, his voice nervous. "That's very interesting. I've really got to be going—"

Sonny grabbed his coat-sleeve, stopping him where he was. "Wait! You can help us. We'll need everyone's help if we're gonna defeat him and his minions. You're a prince. We could use you on the front-lines."

"Heh, I don't think so. Prince Nico is more a lover than a fighter. And I've seen what the Emperor is capable of. It's not something you want to stand in the way for."

Nate furrowed his brow. "How do you know what he's capable of?"

"He did the same thing to my homeland. All of the royal family of _Mackenzie Falls_ was taken into captivity except me. I'd been visiting the neighbor kingdom, trying to win the hand of a duchess. If I'd been home they'dve taken me with the rest."

"That's so sad."

"Yeah." Nico kicked at a tree with the tip of his boot, watching as bits of bark fell off.

"You might be a lover, Nico," Sonny said, breaking the awkward moment. "But you'd better get some fight in you too. You're coming with us."

"But—"

"No buts. Take my horse--she's only skittish of fluorescent colors. I'll ride with Nate."

"Um."

Sonny sent Nico a look that ensured him there was no arguing about the matter. And with some reluctance, he mounted the horse. At least he could find some measure of amusement in watching Arrow-boy's cheeks flush at having the princess' arms wrapped around his torso. Nico smiled. That Sonny was a sly one. Maybe she'd be a match for the Emperor after all.

"By the way," Nico asked, "where are we going?"

Sonny smiled. "901 Creepy Tower, Edge of the Glen."

"Hmph. Sounds inviting." From Nate's scowl, Nico could tell he agreed with the sarcasm. "What will we find there exactly, Princess?"

"Our very own arsenal. Otherwise known as Zora's Apothecary."

to be continued

(hopefully sooner than last time)

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Note: Thoughts? All are welcome. I know it's not up to par and that it's been three centuries, but Id still liked to know what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

**V.**

The reluctant trio stared at the dark tower on the edge of the glen. Purple moss covered the aged wood, letting off a pungent odor, while blue-gray willow trees grew haphazardly around the structure.

"Are we really doing this?" Nico asked, as Princess Sonny and Nate pushed away the branches blocking their path.

"Of course we are."

"At this point, the apothecary if the least of our worries, Nico. "

"But it's just so… creepy." His orange tunic rippled visibly as he shuddered.

Nate pounded on the tower door, dust puffing into the air the woods reverberation.

Finally an old woman in a dark cloak answered. She ran a hand over her extremely large nose. "Come in," she croaked.

Nico made a face suggesting he'd rather not, but with a shove from Nate, he entered with the rest of them.

Sonny looked around, mentally cataloging the jars of liquids and piles of herbs. The room smelled like rotting bananas, but maybe that was typical for the house of a chemist.

"You've come to purchase something, children? Some gold-spun shampoo perchance?" The Old Crone reached up and held a section of Princess Sonny's hair, "It'll transform those drab looks into a hue even Rapunzel would envy." She raised her gray brows exaggeratedly, as if to encourage such a sale.

Sonny just frowned. "What we need is something to help us infiltrate a villain's lair."

"Well isn't that special. Unfortunately not really my specialty." The Old Crone approached Nate. "Are you sure I can't interest you in some lemon verbena hand crème? It'll really help with those calluses. Or maybe some youth-in-a-jar. The way you scrunch your face so much is bound to cause wrinkles-"

Nate shoved her crooked finger away from his face, scrunching it even more. "No thanks."

Nico was surprisingly quiet as the Old Crone gave them a rundown of her services. Something about the way her cloak fit bothered him. He was an excellent judge of fabric and found it odd that a scientist would chose a poly-cotton blend, which offered little to no warmth and risked being lit aflame when in contact with chemicals. It was also clear to him, from the symmetrical pattern of scuff marks on the cloth, that she must've intentionally depressed the material to make it look older than it was. Curious! Nico held his chin with one hand, contemplating what could possibly motivate the her to do that while Sonny tried to reason with the woman.

"We're not interested in miracle beauty products! All we want is something stealth that can give us an edge against the Emperor and his minions."

Nico blinked, the word ringing a bell in his mind. _Stealth?_ He grinned as it started to make sense. With a quick step, he held one foot on the Old Crone's cloak and watched as she tripped forward. With the cloak in a pile on the floor, her disguise was in shambles. And standing in the old woman's place was a young girl in a wig. A child, no older than twelve.

Mouth agape, Princess Sonny managed a "Who are you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The girl looked petulant, upset at the uncovering of her ruse. With a pout, she removed the wart-covered nose and gray eyebrows.

"You're Zora?"

"Duh."

"Why the disguise?"

"Why not?"

Nate crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you get some kind of kick out of fooling people? Because that's pretty twisted considering they're coming to you for help."

"Don't be so quick to judge, Archer-boy. It doesn't matter if you're the resident genius, most people don't want to buy anything but cookies and wrapping paper from you if you're not an adult. It doesn't matter that I'm smarter and my products are more effective. People expect a certain image of their potionists and it's not about to change." She paused for a moment before adding one last thought, "Plus, I like to stay under the radar of certain legal entities and disguises help me do that."

Princess Sonny twitched her nose, "Disguises? As in you have more?" She smiled. "I think I know just how you can be of service to us, Zora."

.

Nate looked on sourly as Nico smeared the finishing touches of ivory paint on Princess Sonny's face.

When he finished, Nico stepped back and held out his hand in a flourish, "Voici mon chef-d'œuvre!"

"It _is_ a masterpiece," Sonny agreed, admiring her face in the mirror. "You can't even tell it's me." The bright red spheres for cheeks were maybe a little much, but overall she definitely didn't look like a princess. Not that she was ever the prime example of one to begin with.

"I don't understand why you have to be the one to go undercover, your highness. You should let me or Nico do it."

Nico didn't look thrilled at that suggestion, but he swallowed his hesitance. "Nate's right. It's very dangerous. You don't know what you're up against."

"My family is on the line, not to mention the well-fare of the whole kingdom. That's all I need to know. Besides," she added with a smirk, "somehow I don't think either of you would have fun fitting into this costume." The checkered court-jester garb was snug even on Sonny's thin frame. Getting it on had required more than a little assistance and a lot of sucking in. But once on, it appeared to fit like a glove.

"You sure this is gonna work?"

"I wouldn't say sure. But reasonably confident."

.

An hour later they'd found his camp. The knight stood a few meters from the massive fire the rest of the soldiers had lit, choosing instead to build a small one under an old oak. The knight was studying a scroll on his arch nemesis, Zacharias Effronicus of Glitzandglam, when he heard a branch snap nearby.

"Who's there?" Sir Chad Dylan Copper said, unsheathing his sword from its hilt.

A young girl in a strange hat (a strange outfit all-together really; these commoners really have no fashion sense) approached from behind the tree. "It is I," the girl said, with an exaggerated bow. "Chic-y Vicky." She had an accent of sorts, one the knight couldn't identify.

"Fantastic," he said, dryly. "And who are you, exactly? Better make it good. I'm not thrilled about being snuck up on by little girls."

"I'm not a little girl!" She insisted, crossing her arms. With sudden spunk she leaped into the air with a somersault, landing inches away from his frame. He jumped back a foot.

With a grin exaggerated by the clown makeup, she pushed one finger into his chest and rested a rose stem horizontally in his open mouth. "I'm the emperor's new court jester. But you're not to worry-I rarely bite."

.

Nate and Nico watched from a distance as Princess Sonny's silhouette was swallowed up by the enemy's carriage.

"I sure hope she knows what she's doing."

"You and me both."

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_**AN:** It's been ages. Let me if you're still invested in this story at all, because I understand if it's been too long._


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